


Be My Lover in the Rain

by PrincexPhoenix



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Domestic Fluff, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Sex, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29240868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincexPhoenix/pseuds/PrincexPhoenix
Summary: Will stared at him, meeting his eyes. They were bright and teasing, and Will felt a smile fighting its way onto his face. He reached out and grasped Hannibal’s shoulder, drawing him close, pressing their foreheads together.“You bastard,” he said, affection thick in his words. “I missed you too.”Or:Will spent the last three years trying his best to live without Hannibal, and realised that without him, there was no life.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 126





	Be My Lover in the Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akadefenders](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akadefenders/gifts).



> A gift fic for the lovely [akadefenders](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akadefenders)! Happy birthday, lovely!

_You need to give me time._

Those were the last words Will Graham said to Hannibal Lecter before he disappeared. For three years, he travelled the world in his boat. In the eyes of the law, he was either dead or kidnapped by Hannibal Lecter. Will was sure that Jack would think differently, and maybe Alana. But for all intents and purposes, Will was a free man. So he experienced things he never did before. Florence, without the weight of finding Hannibal on his shoulders. Japan, walking in what he imagined were Chiyoh’s footsteps. France, for Abigail, for the bright-eyed young teenager that she never got a chance to be.

Every place he went to felt hollow. There was a piece of him missing, no matter how he tried to drown it. Sex, drugs, alcohol - he tried all of it. He even tried to murder someone, chase the high of cutting Dolarhyde’s stomach. All that left him was a dead body and a long night spent burying it.

Nothing worked. Nothing came close to Hannibal Lecter.

So he was back, outside the same old cottage house where he left Hannibal. He was back, his hands in his jeans pockets, a loose and faded henley draped on his chest, and a bag slung over his shoulder. There was smoke puffing from the chimney, drifting along in the lazy wind. The cottage house was made of cobblestone, and had a quaint wooden door. Will put his hand on that door now and pushed it open, stepping inside.

It was empty, but the back door was open. Will put his pack down on the couch and took the opportunity to look around. The oven was on, and the smell of bread and meat lingered in the kitchen. There was a blanket in the corner and Will stooped down to touch it. There was still warmth to be found, and the smell of a dog. Straightening, Will turned to the back door and smiled. He headed outside into the small courtyard and looked around.

Something leaped onto him and pushed him face-first into the ground. A hand shoved his head down, pinning it in place, while a knee dug into the small of his back. Will was about to fight back when something cold and steel pressed into his neck. He lay his hands flat out in front of him as the hand in his hair dug tighter. His assailant stayed there for a moment more before pulling the knife away.

He turned his head to stare into Hannibal’s cool hazel eyes. They glittered with an emotion that Will knew well. Intimately. Hannibal was wearing a long-sleeved, zippered turtleneck, black as night, and slacks that threatened to be comfortable. Will scoffed and smiled, feeling that missing part of him slot back where it was supposed to be. Where it was always meant to be. 

“Hello, Hannibal.”

Hannibal turned Will and kissed him, the knife dropping to the ground with a soft thump. Hannibal’s lips were soft, surprisingly so. Even though his kiss was demanding, needing, it was gentle. He cupped Will’s cheeks, running his fingers over Will’s cheekbones. Their bodies twisted together on the ground, and Will wasn’t sure what they would have done if there wasn’t a very persistent, very wet nose in his ear.

The dog barked in their ears and wagged her tail with her whole body.

Will pushed on Hannibal’s shoulders, disentangling from him, and turned to the dog. She whimpered, her small, white-and-russet coloured body shivering. He held out a hand to her and she licked it, whining again, and pushed her nose under it until he stroked her.

“I got her when you left,” Hannibal said into the silence. “She and I have been waiting for you, Will.”

Will tickled her ears. “What’s her name?”

Hannibal regarded him solemnly. “Cephie.”

“Cephie?”

Hannibal’s lips twitched. “It’s short for Encephalitis.”

Will stared at him, meeting his eyes. They were bright and teasing, and Will felt a smile fighting its way onto his face. He reached out and grasped Hannibal’s shoulder, drawing him close, pressing their foreheads together. 

“You bastard,” he said, affection thick in his words. “I missed you too.”

\---------------

Dinner was simple, and Will cut into it with relish. After years of living off of restaurant food and whatever he could scrounge from the rivers, Hannibal’s food was a delight. As always, Hannibal watched him eat, cataloguing every bite, every swallow. This time, it had the quality of nourishment, and Will felt a flicker of satisfaction. Hannibal did take nourishment just from the sight of him. Will finished his last bite and licked the fork clean. Only then did Hannibal begin his own meal, now grown cold.

By the fire, Cephie was curled up, watching them with dark, liquid eyes. When she saw Will looking at her, her feathered tail thumped against the floor. He smiled at her and her tail thumped harder and she lifted her head and let out a soft woof. 

“She missed you,” Hannibal said, breaking the quiet.

“She never even knew who I was,” Will said.

Hannibal smiled. “She knew your scent. She knew your things. She missed you, Will.”

Will could hear the unspoken and reached out, placing a hand on Hannibal’s. Hannibal stiffened, his eyes darting to Will’s, searching, questioning everything. Will squeezed and exhaled, letting his eyes flutter shut. 

“I went all over the world,” he said. “For three years, I followed all of my whims. I lived in hovels, and I broke into abandoned castles and mansions. I ate whatever I wanted, fished wherever I wanted, and just survived. I survived what we did that night, together, before we fell.” He opened his eyes. “I _survived_ , Hannibal. I didn’t live.”

“During our time apart, I survived as well,” Hannibal said. “I would like to live, Will. Now that everything is behind us, and that you are here, home. I no longer want to merely survive. I want to experience all that life has to offer. And I want you to be by my side as I do.”

Will drummed his fingers on the table. “Everything life has to offer?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows.

“Everything.”

“Fishing?”

Hannibal’s lips twitched. “Yes, fishing.”

“Sailing?”

“Yes.”

“Driving aimlessly, with no thought for gas money?”

“I never worry about money.”

Will nodded, letting out a short, little exhale. “Hunting?”

Hannibal paused, his eyes locking onto Will’s. Will didn’t look away, cool. A wide array of emotions flickered on Hannibal’s face, each of them cutting into Will. Confusion. Hope. Anger. Relief. And, last, was desire. Wanting, needing, praying. It felt like his own want, his own need, his own prayers that burned in his mind and stopped right before they left his lips. Hannibal drew his hand away and, needlessly, adjusted his shirt.

“If you would like to go hunting, Will, I can recommend excellent gun brands, and areas where deer are known to congregate--”

“Not like that,” Will interrupted. “Not that kind of hunting. The other kind of hunting.” There was a pregnant pause, and then Will let the thoughts slip from his lips, birthing them into the silence. “Our kind of hunting.”

Hannibal watched him for a moment. “Yes,” he said.

“You’d enjoy that?” Will asked.

“Very much so, yes.”

Will smiled, and stood. “I would, too. Would you care to join me for a walk, then? I’d like to get to know the neighbourhood. Meet our neighbours. Experience a little bit of what the town has to offer.”

He whistled once, a sharp, loud whistle. It was a holdover from his days with his old dogs, and he felt a pang of loss for them. They were happy, he knew, but he still missed them. Cephie snapped her head up and raced for her leash, tugging it down from the hooks. She trotted back over to Will with it in her mouth, wagging her tail and panting. Pleased as punch, he thought with a grin, taking the leash from her.

“You trained her well,” Will said lightly.

“I believed you would appreciate it,” Hannibal said. “Shall I grab our coats?”

“Yeah,” Will said, latching the leash to Cephie’s collar. “Let’s go for a stroll.”

\------------------------

The little town that Hannibal chose to settle in was quiet. Will could hear the crickets chirping in the distance and closed his eyes for a moment. It was breathtaking in its simplicity. There would be no grand operas, none of the dinner parties to which Hannibal was so accustomed. The sacrifice of it all moved Will. If he said so, they would never go back to that life. They would build a new one here, taking only what they could from the land and the unsuspecting population. Their lives would pass into legend, into myth, the dangerous couple in the woods that parents told their children about to scare them into compliance.

He opened his eyes and looked at Cephie, then at Hannibal. It would be a life he would enjoy, but Hannibal wouldn’t. Will couldn’t deny there was a certain perverse joy he found in that. Hannibal would drop everything for Will if he could, would do anything for him, if only he asked. It was so unlike the dynamic they had when they first met that Will was tempted, for just a second, to ask for it.

But he knew, from his years abroad, that it wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want obscurity. What he wanted was infamy, dying with his name burning on everyone’s lips, and especially Hannibal’s. 

He stopped them underneath a streetlamp and waited until Hannibal looked at him. Hannibal’s eyes widened and, for once, he tried to look away first. Will cupped his cheek and turned his head back, stroking just under his lower lip.

“I love you,” Will said. His voice was firm, unwavering. “I love the monster that you are, the man that lives underneath it, frightened and lashing out. I love all of you, the parts that are drenched in blood and the parts that are drenched in sorrow. I love you, Hannibal. More than I love myself. More than life, always and forever.”

Then he kissed Hannibal, silencing any words that he may have tried to sneak past. His lips parted and Will took advantage, pushing his tongue past those dangerous, sharp, lovely teeth, the same teeth that tore out the throat of the dragon. Hannibal made a low sound, deep in his throat, and Will pressed him against the pole, wrapping a hand around his throat and squeezing until he could feel Hannibal swallowing.

“We belong together,” Will said, pulling away just enough to give them space to breathe. “You and I. I once said that I wondered if we could survive separation. I tried, Hannibal. I really did. But I forgot that surviving isn’t living, it’s existing.”

“Going through life half-alive,” Hannibal murmured. “A ghost walking the Earth, doomed to ever look for what made it feel.”

“I’ve never felt the way I do with you,” Will said, his honesty making him feel ragged and vulnerable, like the edges of a wound. “I’ve never _felt_ unless it was with you.”

Hannibal kissed him again, as if he was drowning, and Will returned it, grinding against him, feeling the rush of heat and desire that went straight to his cock. And, oh, he could feel Hannibal’s want, making his burn even more. If it wasn’t for Cephie, lounging on the ground and panting, he would have stripped Hannibal here and now and pushed him down to his knees-

Hannibal laughed, an honest, breathy sound against Will’s mouth. “Beloved,” he said, the love in his voice making Will’s heart ache. “I believe we have become distracted from your original intentions in coming here.”

“How do you know this wasn’t my original intention?” Will asked, teasing, a smirk on his lips.

Hannibal pressed a kiss to it, closed mouth and chaste. “I know the look in your eyes when you are hunting.”

That sent a chill down Will’s spine, followed by a warmth that originated from his core. He was hunting. His whole life, he was hunting, and he finally had a partner who could keep up with him, and enjoy it as much as he did. His smirk turned into a smile, wide and honest. Hannibal’s eyes were locked on it.

“If I were Icarus, and you were the sun, I would fly as high towards you as I could, even if you were to melt my wings and send me back to the Earth,” he said. “I would fall, and think about how lucky I was just to catch a glimpse of you.”

Will kissed him again, just to stop him from talking, to stop that warm glow that threatened to burst his heart. It grew as their tongues met, and he laughed, helpless to stop it. It buzzed under his skin, made his pulse race, had his heart pounding in his chest and butterflies dancing in his stomach. 

_Is Hannibal in love with me?_

_Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes. But do you ache for him?_

Will did.

“We can hunt later,” Will said, aware of how close they were to each other, and after so long, it felt like the only place he wanted to be. “If you’re Icarus, I’m Odysseus. I’ve come home after the war, and I’ve been through so much to see you, just you. You were on my mind before I went to sleep, and every morning I woke up. While you weaved your shroud and tore it out, I was lost, adrift. But now I’m home.”

A tear trailed down Hannibal’s cheek and Will kissed it away. The street lamp flickered as they embraced, and Cephie barked, wagging her tail.

“Let’s go home,” Will said, and Hannibal nodded, his smile spreading on his face, dazed and out of place, but somehow still so, so right.

\--------------------------

The night was thick and heavy by the time they did make it home, having stopped several times to let Cephie sniff everything in her path. Will even chose the person marked for their first kill together since Dolarhyde. It was a man with a dog that had the obvious signs of abuse - tail lowered and wagging back and forth, head down and ears pinned back, shying away from every sudden movement of her owner. He imagined that Cephie would have a playmate very soon. From Hannibal’s tolerant, fond look, Will already took it as fact that they would adopt the poor, abused creature once they were finished.

Cephie, once let off the leash, headed towards her blanket in the kitchen. She curled up on it and looked up at Hannibal expectantly, her tail thumping.

“Do you normally stay up in the kitchen?” Will asked, easing into a chair.

“I have a cup of coffee before bed,” Hannibal said, moving to a complicated set that Will assumed was for chemistry. “This blend has Valerian root in it, so it allows me to slip into an easy slumber.”

Will grunted. “I had trouble sleeping too,” he said. “While I was abroad.”

Hannibal paused, and poured another serving of beans into the grinder. Will watched it whir around, catching each bean and turning it into dust. The smell of coffee wafted through the kitchen and Will inhaled. It was a complicated blend, much like Hannibal himself. The thought made Will smile. Then he stood and went over to Hannibal, placing his hands on the grinder and guiding it away from Hannibal’s unresisting grip.

“We’re not going to need that to sleep,” he said. “Not tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

“Now, Dr. Lecter,” Will said, “you’re supposed to be a genius at figuring out the motives of other people.” He placed his hand on Hannibal’s chest. “You tell me what I mean.”

His tone was playful, flirtatious, and Hannibal’s microexpression of surprise was like a balm on his soul. Hannibal took Will’s hands and brought them to his lips, kissing each knuckle.

“Dear Will, my beloved,” he said. “Please, if you’re saying what I think you are, do not say it so lightly. To be able to touch you - see you in all of your glory is one of my chiefest desires. It takes my breath away with how much I want it.”

“Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained,” Will said, cupping Hannibal’s cheek.

His eyes blazed. “My desire for you cannot be contained. It is a fire, burning deep inside me, all consuming and terrible.”

“Then let it burn,” Will said, taking a step forward so that he could feel the heat of Hannibal’s body, the press of their legs together, the give of Hannibal’s stomach. “Let it burn me, angel, and we can fall together into the ocean, into Hell, into the embrace of each other.”

Hannibal rested his forehead on Will’s, his eyes sliding shut, hiding the bliss that was within them. Will kissed him, brushing his tongue against one of Hannibal’s lips, and took advantage of the opening left to him to explore Hannibal’s mouth. The taste of him was addictive, and Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders and pulled him closer, and closer, until there was no distance between them. He wished he could pull even closer, until they became one body, one mind, one soul. 

He _ached_ for Hannibal.

“Bed?” Will said in between kisses and bites. 

Hannibal guided him, walking backwards and pulling Will with him. His hands slipped under Will’s thin henley, tracing over the scar that he left behind on Will’s stomach. Will was about to protest when Hannibal kissed harder, swallowing the words, and pressed down on the scar. Remembered agony seared along Will’s nerves and he tilted his head back, a loose moan ripping from his throat.

“How-” he started and Hannibal shook his head.

“No words,” he said, the hazel of his eyes almost eclipsed by his pupils. “Not now, Will, when so many words stand between us. Let us wash them away, and be born anew in the waters of benediction.”

“Is this religious, then?” Will couldn’t resist asking.

Hannibal looked down at him, his smile disappearing, his gaze unwavering and unblinking. “You are life, Will. What is more holy than that?”

Will surged forward, forcing Hannibal into the bedroom, kissing his lips, his jaw, his neck, everywhere he could reach. Hannibal exhaled, and all the tension left his body, as if he was holding that breath all his life. He fell back to the bed at Will’s shove and Will climbed on top of him, pushing his turtleneck off, exposing Hannibal’s strong, muscular arms. Will ran his hands along all of it, marvelling at the feeling of Hannibal under him - under him, at last. 

This was home, he thought as he stroked Hannibal’s chest again, enjoying the way Hannibal arched into the touch. This was what he was waiting for as he travelled the world. All he wanted, all he needed, was beneath him, finally his. He lowered his mouth to Hannibal’s breast bone, pressing a chaste kiss between his pectorals. Hannibal wound his hands in Will’s hair and pulled, guiding Will up for a kiss that was anything but chaste. The passion behind it stirred Will’s cock, and he ground himself against Hannibal’s leg, moaning into Hannibal’s mouth. 

After a few more wet, biting, desperate kisses, Will made his way down Hannibal’s neck to his chest. He kissed over to one of Hannibal’s nipples, soft, and laved his tongue over it. Hannibal moaned, his hips rising into Will’s. Will pushed them back down with a hand as he worked the nipple to hardness, and then sucked on it. He could feel Hannibal’s erection straining against the fabric of his slacks. Satisfied, he moved to Hannibal’s other nipple, the first red and raised. Hannibal was moaning and panting, his mouth hanging open, his eyes glazed over. His hands kept rising to Will and falling back.

Too afraid to touch and shatter the illusion, Will thought, and put Hannibal’s hand on his hips. Hannibal’s eyes cleared and he looked at Will, wordless, wondering as Will moved their hands under his shirt, back to the long, jagged scar along his stomach.

“I would look at this at night,” Will said. “People I slept with, they would ask me about it. How could I explain what it meant to me? How it was my greatest treasure, and my greatest curse all at once?” He let his hands fall back to his side, leaving Hannibal’s under his shirt. “How could I tell them that I’ve hated and loved the man that gave it to me, and that he was everything?”

“Oh, beloved,” Hannibal breathed, and sat up, pushing Will’s shirt up, revealing the scar. He kissed the length of it, his lips brushing over it like a prayer. “I love you. Te amo. Je t’aime. Ich liebe dich. Ai shiteru.”

A wave of love washed over Will and he tilted Hannibal’s head back, kissing him, guiding him to lay down. Everywhere their bodies met, Will felt a burning heat, as if Hannibal’s desire was leaking out of him, flames curling around them. Will could almost see it, the fire that threatened to burn them down. It was all around them, the smoke thick in his lungs, suffocating him. Hannibal lifted his shirt free from him, and the flames grew, about to swallow them whole.

“I love you too,” Will whispered, and the flames disappeared as Hannibal closed his eyes and wept.

Will stroked the tears away, feather light touches as he rained kisses onto Hannibal’s skin. He nuzzled at Hannibal’s pulse point, pressing his nose against it and inhaling the scent of vanilla and sweat that hung around Hannibal. He sucked a mark high enough that it couldn’t be hidden, and bit at the place where Hannibal’s carotid rested under skin and muscle. Hannibal’s head arched back, a moan escaping him as Will bit harder and soothed the reddened indentation of flesh with his tongue. 

He shifted and moved his mouth down Hannibal again, worshipping him with teeth and tongue. Hannibal’s breaths were shaky, and his hands grasped at the sheets as Will grew closer to his pelvis. Will paused to kiss the bullet wound left behind by the Dragon, tracing its jagged edges with his fingers. The bullet that Hannibal took for him, that almost killed him, and left its mark on him forever. The thought made Will angry, and he bit at it, harder and harder, flesh threatening to give under his jaws. Hannibal made a low sound, his hands resting on Will’s head. Not to stop him, Will realised a second later, but to stabilise him, remind him where he was and who Hannibal chose. 

Will moved his teeth away and instead bit the waistband of Hannibal’s slacks, tugging at them with a mischievous smile on his face.

“I think these are getting in the way,” he said, his words muffled by the fabric.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Hannibal said, and it was so mundane and domestic that Will laughed, feeling that happiness buzzing under his skin again. 

Hannibal’s eyes widened and he pulled Will into another passionate, possessive kiss. Will was only too happy to sink into it, laying their bodies together, stroking Hannibal’s sides. He started to move his hands around to Hannibal’s back and felt him stiffen. Will frowned and moved back, breaking the kiss. Hannibal regarded him before pushing at his shoulders. Will rolled off and Hannibal sat up, turning his back. Will’s breath caught in his chest first in surprise, then outrage as he realised what he was seeing.

“Mason,” he said, his voice thick with hatred and menace.

“Long ago,” Hannibal said. “During the Muskrat Farm Massacre.”

“You should have left him for me.”

“Would that I did.” Hannibal turned and held Will’s hands. “I do not look at it with shame.”

“And you shouldn’t,” Will said, still seeing red. He took a few deep breaths and leaned forward, kissing Hannibal again. “We’ll change it, so that it’s not his. I don’t want his mark on you.” He ran his fingertips along the small scar on Hannibal’s cheek. “All of our scars, and they only brought us to each other.”

“If your body is a canvas, Will, then these are all strokes of paint,” Hannibal said, smoothing a hand along Will’s chest. “And there is nothing more that I love than how priceless a work of art you are.”

Will made a wounded, hungry noise and crushed their bodies together, the feeling of skin on skin making him dizzy. They fell back to the bed, tangled in each other’s arms. Each kiss felt like being devoured and devouring in turn. Each touch felt like being seen, being known, and being loved. He couldn’t get enough of the way Hannibal’s eyes fluttered shut when Will found the right spot to squeeze, or the way his back arched when Will ran his nails down it, a teasing promise of pain. It was a beauty that no one else was able to provide. A beauty that ran so deep, was so painful to behold, that each time he did, it was like a little death.

La petit mort, he thought, and his cock was almost painfully hard. He unbuttoned his pants and threw them to the floor, ignoring Hannibal’s look. He did the same for Hannibal’s pants, and then his briefs, staring at the length of uncut cock in front of him. He looked up at Hannibal, his eyes crinkling from his grin.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, reverent, touching the very tip of Hannibal’s cock. It was smooth, softer than he imagined, and turgid with blood and arousal. “Hannibal, love, angel, you’re stunning. I want you, more than anything, more than anyone I ever have before. I want all of you, now, and forever.”

Hannibal looked vulnerable, and that almost drove Will to madness. He pressed their cocks together and kissed Hannibal before leaning over to fish around in the bedside table. He found a bottle of lube and hid a smile. Leave it to Hannibal Lecter to be prepared for anything. It was full and unopened, a clear sign that Hannibal had no other lovers. The thought filled Will with a cold, cruel satisfaction. Hannibal was _his_.

When he came back, there was a small smile on Hannibal’s face. “You slept with others when you were abroad,” he said. “Is it so important to you that I did not?”

“Very,” Will said, coating a finger in a liberal application of lube. “Does it hurt you that I did?”

“Yes,” Hannibal said, and the low menace in his answer made Will shiver with arousal. “Greatly.”

“Then,” Will murmured, tracing a circle around Hannibal’s entrance, “we’ll have to find them again, won’t we?” He pushed a finger inside, his eyes fluttering shut with sheer pleasure as Hannibal’s breath hitched. “Track each one of them down, and kill them together.”

“You would do this with me?” Hannibal asked, gripping Will’s hips, sliding his thumbs over Will’s hip bones. “Allow me to reclaim what is mine?”

“Always,” Will said, and kissed him, slotting between his legs, pumping his finger in and out of him. “Oh, forever.”

Hannibal bit his lip and sucked at the wound left behind. Will’s hips ground against him as he worked his finger in deeper, enjoying the tightness of Hannibal’s asshole, the way his muscles squeezed in protest at his intrusion. His body would get used to Will’s presence, and relax, but this was an exquisite kind of torture for them both. Will pulled his finger away so he could smear lube on another, and pushed them inside Hannibal. Hannibal made a sound that sent Will into a frenzy of kissing and biting that perfect, wonderful, responsive mouth. Hannibal kneaded Will’s ass, encouraging, and Will spread his fingers inside of him in response.

“Will,” Hannibal panted, his hips grinding up in the air. “Oh, Will, I want you. Now.”

“Not yet,” Will murmured, taking his fingers out and returning with three. “Not until I’m satisfied you’re ready.”

“I want it to hurt,” Hannibal said, lifting Will’s head to his. “Pain is a reminder that I am alive, and right now, I feel as if I am asleep, and this is a dream.”

“Then it is a good dream,” Will said, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth. “We’ve hurt each other enough. I won’t hurt you again.”

He spread his fingers, stretching Hannibal’s walls, preparing him. The sight of Hannibal open and pliant underneath him was almost enough to make him come untouched. He grabbed his cock by the base to stave it off, because he wanted to be inside Hannibal, and then he wanted Hannibal to be inside him.

He pulled his fingers away and anointed his cock with lube. He hesitated and then lifted Hannibal’s legs, grunting at the way his shoulder protested even the simple movement. Hannibal opened his eyes as Will lined himself up and stroked Hannibal’s thigh.

“I love you,” he said, because it was true, and he did, perhaps from the moment they met.

Then he pushed himself inside Hannibal, slow and steady, each inch of ground he gained feeling like bliss. He felt a strong relief at finally being right. Where he was supposed to be, where he was meant to be. It felt good, so good to be within Hannibal, within the man that was his torment and his life. He wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s thighs and gave his hips an experimental roll. Hannibal groaned in response, arching his back, his hips thrusting himself onto Will’s cock. 

“Will,” Hannibal breathed, “please, do not hold back. I want you. I want everything you are, and everything you will be. Whatever you choose to give me, I-”

“Shut up,” Will said, half-fondness, half-exasperation, as he kissed the inside of Hannibal’s ankle and started fucking into him.

It was not the first time Will had had sex with a person with a penis. There were many opportunities while he was travelling, and he took almost all of them. None of them, though, came close to how this felt. The sound of his balls slapping against Hannibal’s ass was like music instead of a distraction. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of Hannibal was a revelation, each stroke bringing him closer to an epiphany. Will threw his head back and groaned, his eyes closing.

Hesitantly, tentatively, he opened the part of himself that allowed him to empathise with anyone. During his travels, he kept it closed, as much as he could, afraid to experience their fear, their rage, their joy. But he wanted to know what Hannibal was feeling. He was desperate for it. He needed to know.

And when he felt it, he gasped, losing his precarious control. Love, pure and unadulterated, hit him like a ton of bricks. It washed over him, drowning him, seeping into his every pore and orifice. It was terrifying in its strength, and left him feeling broken apart. He was but flotsam in the current of Hannibal’s love for him. It was overwhelming, and heartbreakingly beautiful. Tears ran down his cheeks as he slumped against Hannibal, vague awareness of his post-orgasmic glow settling on him.

“Will?” Hannibal asked, and Will pulled out of him, shaky.

“I’m okay,” he said, and smiled, wider than he had smiled in years. It stretched the scar on his cheek, and he felt a phantom twinge of pain. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Hannibal said, despite his still hard cock. “You were crying.”

Will shook his head and leaned down to kiss Hannibal, parting his lips with his tongue. Hannibal responded, making a low, encouraging sound in his throat. Will placed his arms on either side of Hannibal and nuzzled against his temple, letting out a breathy sigh.

“I want you inside me,” he said, making his voice as low and sultry as he could. “I want to take you, inch by inch, until there’s nothing left between us.”

Hannibal shifted, and was suddenly on top of Will, straddling him and kissing him with such ferocity that it made Will’s head spin. “That can be arranged, beloved,” Hannibal said before kissing down Will’s stomach.

Will gasped as Hannibal’s tongue passed over his still sensitive cock, laving over the head and the shaft. He mouthed at Will’s balls before licking down to Will’s entrance, passing his tongue over it. Will shuddered and Hannibal repeated the simple action, moaning. The vibrations travelled through Will, and he was aware of his cock twitching in response. Almost dazed, he wondered if he was going to be able to have another round.

Then Hannibal did something with his tongue that made Will gasp again, and from then on all he could focus on was the way Hannibal was devouring him. It was depraved, and filthy, and so unlike his normal way of being that Will was having a hard time keeping up. It was also the sexiest thing he had ever seen, and he bucked into Hannibal’s grip, hard and firm. Hannibal rubbed soothing circles on his hip bones and _sucked_ , which definitely caused Will’s cock to stiffen and begin to curl towards his stomach.

“Hannibal,” he groaned, and Hannibal pulled away, lips red and swollen. “Fuck, please. Fuck me.”

“I could never deny you,” Hannibal said, his expression softening, and Will felt like his heart was going to burst.

One lube coated finger pushed into him, and Will moaned, jerking his hips up to fuck himself on it. Hannibal looked surprised for a fraction of a second, and Will took pleasure in that he could still shock him. Then Hannibal’s expression smoothed, and he added another finger into Will, spreading them wide, and then a few centimetres wider. The stretch was incredible, and Will parted his legs, inviting more, harder. Hannibal’s eyes closed as he pushed in a third finger, and Will fucked himself on them with abandon, his hands gripping the sheets, using the pressure as leverage to force his hips higher and higher.

With a sudden jerk of his arm, Hannibal pulled his fingers away, leaving Will feeling empty. He lifted his head to watch Hannibal pour a liberal amount of lube onto his palm and pump it up and down his cock. When it was coated to his satisfaction, he turned back to Will with a smile. He gripped Will’s hips and lined himself up, squeezing once.

Will nodded, and Hannibal eased into him. He gasped, his back arching at the feeling of Hannibal’s cock - not the biggest Will took, but close - stretching him wider and wider. It was one of the best feelings he ever had, better than when he fucked men in hotels, or when Molly pegged him within an inch of his life. This was ecstasy and agony rolled into one, and he groaned and his eyes fluttered shut.

“Oh, Will,” Hannibal said, his voice quiet and reverential. “You’re so beautiful. You’re so beautiful, so perfect in this moment, with your head tilted back and your lips parted. I have never seen anything so beautiful, and I doubt I will ever again. I love you, my beautiful monster.”

“I love you too,” Will whispered, and then Hannibal began to fuck him, and all thought was chased from his mind. 

There was only room for feeling, and he invited Hannibal’s pleasure to exist alongside his. The feeling of being fucked and fucking filled his mind, threatening to tear him apart. Hannibal expertly angled himself so that every thrust brought him against Will’s prostate, sending earth-shattering waves of pleasure through Will and down to his toes. They curled, and he moaned his way through another series of thrusts that made the room spin.

Hannibal’s pace began to stutter, and he grabbed Will’s cock, moving his hand up and down in a quick, almost punishing rhythm. Will panted, his mind clouded with pleasure, and came with a shout that sent Cephie into a barking frenzy. Hannibal thrust a few more times, and then a white-hot heat was seeping into Will, filling him with Hannibal.

They collapsed together, and Will stirred first, wrapping his arms around Hannibal’s back and stroking just under the brand on his spine. Hannibal hummed and pulled himself out of Will, turning them to face each other on their sides. Will cupped his cheek and kissed him, chasing the taste of himself, and the warmth of Hannibal’s mouth.

“What will we do now, Will?” Hannibal asked once Will pulled away, cheeks flushed. “Where will you have us go?”

Will’s heart twisted and he shook his head. “This can’t be you doing everything I say,” he said. “I don’t want that. I want you to be my equal. My partner. All things we do, anything we decide, we do together. What do you want?”

“I want to be by your side,” Hannibal said, and his honesty was so simple, so easy, that Will couldn’t think for a moment. “I want to see the world with you, and taste what it has to offer.”

Will huffed, a smile curving his lips. “Hunt in exotic locales?”

“Precisely.”

Will moved closer, pressing his face into Hannibal’s neck and breathing in the smell of sex, sweat, and vanilla. “I think we can do that,” he whispered. “Promise me we’ll kill that animal abusing son of a bitch tomorrow, though, before we go.”

Hannibal’s chuckle was a warm vibration against Will’s chest. “Consider it arranged, beloved.”

Will smiled again, and his eyes drifted shut, knowing he was home at last.


End file.
